


Locked In

by RaiWalk



Series: Gift Me Something Precious [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Kind of...setting the stage?, Maybe Abstract, Short, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaiWalk/pseuds/RaiWalk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite everything...</p><p>...he's alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locked In

He dies.

 

Despite the pain, despite the horror, despite the grief, it’s a surprisingly simple affair. He dies. His body becomes empty. That’s it.

 

After the simple affair, though… something becomes strange. He takes a while to realize that he doesn’t perceive reality the same way. But it’s strangely bizarre that yes, he perceives it. And more, like six extra dimensions to reality, besides the three(four?) dimensions commonly known. It’s strange. And terrifying. He takes minutes(years?) to grow used to the input on senses he hadn’t known he had, then more to begin to understand what they mean.

 

It hurts, because he is given no respite through that process. They tear at him. There is something strange, because he tries to shrink into himself, but the more they wear at him, the more he feels himself be lost, and this scares him. Scares him like nothing ever did.

 

He tries to keep himself together, remembering the key points of himself.

 

His name is Dean. His brother is Sam. Baby. Bobby. Dad. Salt and Silver and Fire.

 

Everything else can go.

 

* * *

 

It’s brilliant in more than one sense. If he still had physical sight, he’d be blind. As it is, he can look-- but he can’t see.

 

It’s there. He can’t see, but his other senses pick up  _ something _ . It’s there. Barely, but there. It’s so  _ small _ . Or… he doesn’t know.

 

It fascinates him, wakes the greed in him, because he can’t see it, but he knows it’s so shiny and  _ good _ and everything he is not. Not anymore. He wants it. Wants it so much it hurts.

 

He finds out he was mistaken-- it’s not small. It’s actually so big,  _ so big _ , he can’t see where it begins and where it ends, in any direction. It’s engulfing and so frightening, and… and it takes him into this... appendage, lulls him to sleep.

 

He’s cradled so sweetly, so gently. He has this feeling that it’s...doing something...like sweeping him back to himself. It’s revigorating, and calming. It presses around him, but it’s so gentle. It fills him with strength. With self. With...determination. He’s not sure for what.

 

He’s alright.

 

* * *

 

When he wakes, the cradle has become a coffin, and he feels all those senses he’s become used to in the last decade muffled to almost nothing. He feels too small to be inside such a big vessel.

Nobody hears him scream.

When he digs himself out, he looks back at his grave and dreads what his brother has done.

( _Who and what else could bring him back to life after all?_ )


End file.
